Wickedly Poetic
by Alice-in-french
Summary: My growing collection of Wicked Poetry. It's deep, so make sure you are not allergic to water andor have your floaties!
1. For I Am

**So, I wrote this poem about a month ago(4/23/07), and I was going to wait even longer to post it, but after the embarassment I received at musical practice today, I needed something to cheer me up. (CoughreviewCough)**

So, the embarassing moment? Well, we're doing Into The Woods Jr. And at the end of the finale we go to black out and everyone is supposed to go off stage and get ready to come back on for our bows. This is the first time we've done the black out. At the end of the finale I am onstage right, and during blackout I have to get offstage left. I couldn't see ANYTHING during blackout, and during my walk offstage, i ran into the trees. THe thing is, if you touch a tree, you die(LoL). So there's this huge crash and when the lights come on and sitting in this weird crouch position holding onto this fake tree for dear life all the while thinking "Oh my goodness, i knocked down trees - they're gonna kill me!" Well, they didn't kill me, but as soon as the lights turned on everyone crowds me and is like "are you OK?!" and it took me a couple seconds to realize I could let go of the tree. I was beet red! So my directors are like "Give her a hand!" (trying to make me feel better.) Then they sent everyone to the dressing rooms to get out of our costumes and I'm one of the last ones back onstage for our little 'pow wow'. So I come out leaning on my best friend for moral support and everyone - cast and crew - start applauding again calling me "tree hugger". It was actually pretty funny, but very, very embarrassing me. Thankfully from now on I do not have to walk across the stage in total black out.

**OK, enough rambling, onto the poem!  
**

* * *

For I Am

Looking in the mirror,  
What do I see?  
Uncontrollable power,  
unsurpassed intelligence,  
beautiful tragicness, perhaps?

When you look at me,  
What do you see?  
An abomination,  
a freak,  
a terror, maybe?

You called me an  
artichoke;  
I call you fakes:  
Cruel people  
hiding behind plastic smiles.

Well, guess what?  
You're still hiding  
behind your plastic smiles  
not realizing that  
'wonderful' is a lie.

They call me a terrorist,  
and gush about your goodness.  
It doesn't irk me much, though,  
because unlike you,  
I can do anything I want.

For I am the Wicked Witch of the West

* * *

**PS: I sent this poem to Julia Murney! Eek! I hope she likes it!**


	2. Twister of Fate

**A/N: Here's my next poem, I do not know when another will be posted because I haven't written any others right now.**

**This one is about Nessa's death, I'm not exactly sure of the POV. I think it changes a bit.**

**For those of you who have seen the musical, and know how the lines I have quoted are usually said, saying them like that helps the poem along. Well, at least in my opinion.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Twister of Fate

Accidents will happen!  
It was never an accident  
to kill Nessarose Thropp.  
The accident was the arrival  
of Dorothy Gale and Toto.

A regime change!  
Hmph. Yes, certainly that.  
The Witch of the East  
- Governor of Munchkinland –  
was dead.

A bizarre and unexpected twister of fate!  
Bizarre? Perhaps. Unexpected? Never. Fate? I think not.  
The Wizard expected it.  
Madame Morrible made it.  
Glinda suggested it.

And so, in that, it was never an accident.  
In her grief Glinda the Good,  
- out of spite -  
condemned poor Nessarose Thropp to death.  
Oh, Elphie, you musn't blame yourself!


	3. Beauty and Tragedy

**A/N: So...here's a poem I wrote about Glinda. I really hope I am going to be able to give it to Christina DeCicco in person...Yep, you guessed it! On Saturday, September 1st, I am going to see the tour of WICKED!!!! YAY!!!**

**And that is why I wrote this poem. Enjoy!!**

* * *

Everybody always said that

Nessarose was tragically beautiful.

I have to admit, it's true…

Her stunning beauty was always

over powered by that hideodeous wheelchair.

--

Still, I believe that description fits me more.

I too have always been beautiful,

but nothing more than a

pretty face for the longest time.

I was only a puppet doing its master's bidding.

--

Elphaba once said she was beautifully tragic.

She had tremendous power, intelligence, and passion,

nevertheless, she was always shunned by society.

Partly because of her innovative ideas, but mostly because of her greenness.

She was twisted into something wicked by the same master who controlled me.

--

Still, my story is also quite tragic – and it is my entire fault.

I've always had so much influence, but I never truly used it for good.

I used it for my own personal gain, and believed I was dying

If things didn't turn out how I wished.

And in the end, nothing was right.

--

Fiyero no longer loved me and was dead

Because I did nothing to protect him that fateful day.

Nessa's death, too, was partly my fault.

Worst of all, for years I did nothing to prevent Elphie's death.

It's all quite horribly tragic, really.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, I am unable to format my poems the way I want to. If the last stanza seems a bit dark; I am really sorry...I just wanted to emphasize how horrible Glinda feels after Elphie "dies". sniff**

**Please R/R!!!!**

--But then I guess, we know there's blame to share, but none of it seems to matter anymore!!


End file.
